The Cat
by problematicmoo
Summary: Party. Spiked drinks. Cats. Oh, the possibilities. Click to read, you won't be sorry.I think.


_Setting: Marauder's Era HP, Sixth year.  
Characters: Remus Lupin, a cat.  
Just a simple simple, short little story about parties and how they can be no fun. A one shot, I think they call these things.  
Not sure if I'll continue it or not.  
__Enjoy._

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything HP, except perhaps a fandom pen I bought online. Otherwise, the rights and characters all belong to **J.K. Rowling.**  
Duh.

_**-Ellie  
**_

**The Cat**

There he stood, leaning against the counter, holding the cup in his hands, staring awkwardly in front of him. He didn't belong here; he didn't even know why he decided to come. His friends were lost somewhere, each of them most likely with a girl, he couldn't find anyone he recognized, and on top of it all, he was utterly bored. He wasn't the kind of person to be bored easily. In fact, he often time tried to find things he could do in the situation, either pulling out a book to read or try and strike up a polite conversation with someone he knew. Seeing as neither of these options were available, he stood alone, leaning on the desk and clutching the glass of some strange concoction of a liquid in his hands. He brought it up to his lips, taking only a small amount into his mouth. Bringing the glass down, he bit his lip, his tongue reacting uncomfortably to the mixture of some sort of alcohol and fruit. He looked around desperately, his mind flooding with empty ideas of what to do. He saw as people gathered in groups around him, giggling and chattering and what not. As quickly as they gathered, they seemed to split apart and wander away. Eventually, after each of the people inside the groups wandered off to their own places, he was left there alone, the fire flickering behind him solemnly.

Noise echoed around him, clouding his mind with absurd conversations about what someone did two Thursdays and a half ago with their friend's sister's cousin's best friend's old roommate. He didn't care! He just didn't care, but he knew if he left now, one of his friends would see him and he wouldn't be able to hear the end of it the next day. So, taking another sip of that alarmingly odd liquid, he continued to look about the room, as if he was completely interested in what was happening on the wallpaper.

He suddenly felt some sort of sense of a creature crawling on the desk behind him. Pushing off the desk, he turned to see a tawny colored cat staring up at him. Its tail drifted back and forth tauntingly, as if the animal were about to… to, well, do something, I suppose. Something cat-like, maybe? I don't know, don't ask me.

Dark green eyes stared up at him, making a contrast against its fur.

He stood, slightly perplexed. Cats normally hated him, hissed as he walked by or leaped at him, flailing their little claws. But this one just sat there, not-quite-so innocently with its big eyes and drifting tail. He frowned slightly, wondering if the cat had been slipped some sort of catnip.

"Hello, cat." He greeted politely, tipping an imaginary hat. The cat stared as he moved, not even blinking. He straightened himself up, staring back at the animal. "Nice party we're having. Loads of fun, good times occurring right as we speak. …Right as I speak. You can't speak, you're a cat." He found himself talking to it, something he could openly admit he did not do on a daily basis. "Having a jolly time yourself, I see. Sitting there on the little desk, staring at people until they go completely insane and start talking to you. I'll probably end up talking to the wall next." He slipped in another sip of his drink, wondering vaguely why he was even drinking this if it tasted so awful. "I'm practically completely sure it's something to do with this." He gestured to the glass. "No, completely sure. Indignantly." The cat blinked at him, as if it was following along quite well. "So technically, the talking-to-the-catness isn't really my fault. It's the alcohol." He smirked, setting the glass down on the desk. The cat, finally deciding to move itself, sat up to a four legged stand and moved over to the drink. "Don't you drink that, cat." He directed, not wanting to be held responsible for any drunken cats running around. He picked it back up and moved it to another table, the cat meowing at him, annoyed. "It was for your own good." He said, shrugging slightly. The cat meowed again and turned to face the other direction, hopping down to the floor and slinking away.

"Going to leave me, I see? Fine, fine, but the party is over here." He turned to look behind him, realizing there was no one there. "…Party is over here…" He leaned against the table again, understanding to a more full extent what a loony he actually was. "The cat doesn't even want to talk to me." He mumbled to himself, sipping at his drink. "Lovely."


End file.
